"Dressed like this, trying to squeeze onto the tram? I didn't even bring my sunglasses. How am I supposed to sit? Everyone will recognize me."
He held her hand tightly as they squeezed onto the tram, like a victorious general on the verge of victory.
She was on a trolleybus heading north, passing Rue Lupin to Rue Joffre. The bus was crowded, and she still didn't recognize the female celebrity. She laughed:
"When I was little, my mother told us not to ride the tram, because she was afraid we would get electrocuted."
Upon entering Duan Pingting's room, she shivered.
"It wasn't an electric shock, it was just a cold."
Ignoring Huaiyu, he muttered to himself in the room, "Where's my bathrobe? There's not a trace of it."
Not seeing it, she said again:
"Tang, I'll let you go. Take a hot bath. Pour yourself a glass of wine to ward off wealth."
When she came out, she saw Lin Yu with half a glass of glassy liquid, still sloshing around. She came out without any makeup, looking more like a baby.
Unexpectedly, once she left the hustle and bustle, she dared to revert to being an ordinary person, still seemingly immature. Her face was very pale, and she looked younger and younger.
He offered her wine, but she refused. Instead, she pulled his hand, and the wine instantly soaked her, turning into streams of fiery red liquid—entirely because of the soft, shimmering fabric of her robe, not a single drop was absorbed, only trickling to the bottom. Her body went limp again, and she took the opportunity to rub herself and the wine against him. Question:
"If I kiss you, will you turn into a prince?"
Huaiyu struggled and said, "I'm sorry."
Duan Pingting's gaze enveloped him like a wisp of smoke. A slight daze, a casual glance, and Huaiyu was utterly captivated, too terrified to turn around. She watched him flee.
He fled to the bathroom, which had light pink tiles. He turned on the tap, intending to wash away the wine and the person. He couldn't resist rubbing himself against her as if she were still there.
He glanced unintentionally at the edge of the bathtub and saw traces of her: a few short, fine hairs, subtly clinging to the off-white skin. The sight was startling; he felt a surge of emotion he'd never experienced before. His heart leaped out, his eyes darted over, but his body froze.
There wasn't enough time to escape, so she wrapped her arms around his strong frame from behind—one hand placed where it shouldn't. A sly smile played on her lips; she wondered how he would get out of this predicament. She could feel his fluttering heart.
How could he possibly resist her relentless pressure?
He was completely drunk and filled with anger. Now he had become an angry frog.
Duan Pingting naturally sensed Huaiyu's fierceness and urgency.
He lost her, almost like a groom in a wedding procession:
In the end, Huaiyu's face just felt hot.
But Tang Huaiyu had already finished.
Duan Pingting wouldn't let him leave. She whispered in his ear, "Just like that..."
that's all……"
Duan Pingting wrapped her limbs tightly around him, as if she were using all her strength. —Like a greedy infant desperately trying to suckle the milk its mother had already provided, not out of hunger, but out of thirst.
She comforted him:
"It's alright, let's do it again. Let's do it ten more times, a hundred more times. We still have a lifetime!"
Huaiyu never expected him to give in.
His past, his glory on stage, were all martial arts dramas, and martial arts dramas never had female roles. There never were. Then one came along, but for the sake of loyalty, she was gone too. Now, in his life, Duan Pingting, she was willing to see him this way, in his most distressed and helpless moment.
He wasn't unmoved.
No one understood her predicament; the future was uncertain, only she knew. —However, upon closer examination, it was all due to a tragic fate. If she hadn't vaguely encountered him in the distorted mirror of the Paradise World that day… who knows whose arrangement it was. Oh, I, Tang Huaiyu, have fallen to this state.
How can I go back and face my fellow villagers?
Duan Pingting's hand pressed against his heart, making it hard for him to breathe. In this small world filled with the scent of women, a world that made one forget all sorrow, his heart stretched out a hungry and lustful claw, tearing open the flesh of his chest and seizing the opportunity to grab her breast. —A comeback.
The second round was much fiercer than the first.
She laughed:
"Lu Wenlong, the double-cropping expert?"
I also felt a pang of pity and apology.
"You've been corrupted."
"I am inherently bad."
"I want you to be even worse, even worse..."
He could no longer speak in full:
"You... are more lewd than I imagined!"
His actions spoke volumes.
Overwhelmed with emotions, all locked within the throes of passion. She was his first female impersonator. He was her number one nemesis. The two were trapped in each other's embrace, determined to seize every moment.
later.
She looked at him: "Call my name."
Then he asked, "Do you remember my real name?"
"Qiuping".